Finally Free, Finally Happy
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: She had never been happy, never truly happy, always living up to the pressure of not being good enough. She wasn't as pretty as Astoria, nor as popular as Pansy. She wasn't smart like Hermione Granger, or good at football like Cho Chang. She was just an ordinary, moody girl, and for that, her only reward was her parents' silent judgment. (Mentions of suicide)


_**Written for the 'Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition' Game Day 6: Genres, using the genre MuggleAU, and the prompts milk, "I've never received a birthday card before", and ceremony. **_

_**Also written for the 'If You Dare Challenge' by Slytherin Cat, using prompt # 247, psychological. **_

_**Also written for the 'Ten times Ten Challenge' by Utlaga, using adjective: pretty. **_

….

_Part I. _

"_Sweet, crazy conversations full of half sentences, daydreams and misunderstandings more thrilling than understanding could ever be."  
― Toni Morrison _

"I've never received a birthday card before," Potter said, not looking at her. He was staring down at the slim paper, reading her loopy handwriting. He was a weird kid-weirder even than she was-an outcast who lived with his aunt and uncle in the Gryffindor area. His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was an infant, and most people tended to avoid the dark-haired boy, with the wide-eyed stare. He was friends with that crazy Lovegood girl, the two of them wandering around town holding hands and making up conspiracy theories. Rumour was they were searching for a unicorn, like five year olds who still believed in magic.

"Don't gawk," she said grumpily, shoving his present into his hands, wishing she could just _leave. _Potter the weirdo, Potter the freak, Potter the mad boy. But Astoria stood beside Daphne, with her perfect smile and perfect laugh. She handed Potter her hand-made card, kissing his cheek. Daphne hated her, hated Potter, hated being the older sister who always got into trouble. Why was she even giving this deranged boy a present? Why had she agreed to follow Astoria all the way to Gryffindor so Astoria could give her friend a present for his birthday? "It's just a card, you don't need to act like we've given you gold."

"But this is better than gold," Potter told her, his eyes widening in a way that was almost comical. He was grinning wildly, but his eyes showed that he was serious. Daphne wanted to punch him, wanted to get away from this mad child who was always so happy. He didn't seem to understand that the world wasn't as pleasant a place as the imaginary one he lived in. Potter didn't seem to understand he was messed up in the head, possibly insane. He was happy, and Daphne was never happy, and she hated him for that fact, as mad as it sounded.

"Thank you, Astoria," he said, hugging the younger girl. "Thank you Daphne," Potter said, moving to hug her, but she only pushed him away, not wanting to hug this mad boy. He had never been normal, never been quite right, but at least he was happy. At least he didn't care what others thought about him. He didn't have to live up to his uncle's standards, he didn't have to get a certain grade, or act a certain way just to get someone to love him. Potter was mad, cracked in the head, but he was free from the pain of caring what other people thought. He was happy, and Daphne pushed him away.

She had never been happy, never truly happy, always living up to the pressure of not being good enough. She wasn't as pretty as Astoria, nor as popular as Pansy. She wasn't smart like Hermione Granger, or good at football like Cho Chang. She was just an ordinary, moody girl, and for that, her only reward was her parents' silent judgment. All the time, she could feel their annoyance that she wasn't as perfect as they had hoped. She got 'very good' when she ought to have earned 'excellent'. She got second place in a singing competition, and she needed first. She was never quite good enough, and she was never happy.

….

_Part II._

"_Don't flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. Except in cases of necessity, which are rare, leave your friend to learn unpleasant things from his enemies; they are ready enough to tell them."  
― Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. _

Daphne sighed, taking another drag from her cigarette, ignoring the babbling behind her; she wrapped her coat a little tighter around her shoulders, wondering why she'd bothered coming out onto the balcony. It was cold, almost Christmas now, which was why she was even at this frivolous ball, a ceremony of sorts for her parents to parade Daphne around. Daphne hated things like this, dressing up in fancy dresses and greeting Mother and Father's aging friends, who kissed Daphne's cheeks, or told her she was too skinny. She hated these social events, hated having to dress up and pretend like everything was normal. All these balls and parties her mother was always having-trying to impress those who were more powerful than her-and Daphne hated the lot of them, unlike her well-behaved little sister, Astoria. _The good daughter. _

Daphne lived in a small town called Hogwarts, where there were about five hundred families, usually separated into four different areas of town. The Greengrasses lived in the nicest part of town, down in the valley-an area most residents called Slytherin. Slytherin was full of older, well-off families who'd been around for centuries, often only breeding with those who occupied the same sort of social circle as they did. Daphne also was in Year 11 at the private school, a member of the choir, and usually seen as one of the 'baggage' kids-what everyone else called the kids whose parents weren't paying full tuition for school. Sure, the Greengrasses weren't as bad off as the Weasleys (with their seven kids, and the husband working full time) but Daphne and her younger sister were both on semi-scholarships: Daphne for her singing and Astoria for ballet and football.

She'd gotten used to the boring life with the boring, vapid socialites. Daphne used to dream about getting _out _of Slytherin, being able to see the world that existed outside of her closed walls. When she was younger-around eleven or twelve-she used to imagine a simpler life out in the real world, where people didn't judger her based on how she looked, or where she lived. She had wanted to live in a place where the only thing that mattered was her merit. She used to imagine living in Hufflepuff, which was the poorest section in town, but she imagined they were all loving and kind in Hufflepuff. But she was sixteen now and not so foolish as to imagine that the world would ever have a place for people like her.

"You look wonderful tonight, Daphne, simply splendid," said a haughty voice behind her, and Daphne turned to see Pansy Parkinson standing in the doorway. Pansy attended Hogwarts Prep with Daphne, and was in the same year as her. However, where Daphne was quiet and a little bit of a loner, Pansy was one of the most popular girls at school, and she used that status to get what she wanted: information, classwork, or even a sweater that she thought was cute. Pansy was cold and calculating, like any teenage girl, except her parents had the money to back their daughter up in any situation. (They were also rather talented lawyers who were known for rarely losing a case.) Daphne dropped the cigarette, crushing it under her foot, trying to ignore the girl. Pansy and Daphne had never really gotten along; Pansy was considered to be graceful and popular, while Daphne was the awkward, moody girl who wrote disturbing poetry and had been the butt of jokes for years.

"It _is _lovely to see you once again, Daphne," Pansy said, simpering at Daphne, her lip curled up slightly as if she'd smelt something unpleasant. "I'm _so _glad your parents threw this _lovely _ball for everyone. Usually, it's somewhere a little more…elegant, but your home is so quaint, and I can tell your mother worked so hard to make everything shine, hasn't she? After all, not all of us are able to have maids to do the dirty work for us, right?" She smirked, looking around at the aging carpets, and the chandelier, with the fake diamonds. Daphne bristled at the jab against her family-the Greengrasses, who weren't nearly so rich as some of the other families in Slytherin, not like the Parkinson's', big-shot lawyers who were known for having the power and wealth to buy out nearly the whole town if they desired to.

Daphne hated Pansy, hated the way her parents always compared the two of them. _Look at the Parkinson girl, so perfect and pretty. She's got talent, she's got potential. Why aren't you like her? _Pansy, who had a nice car, and always brought tons of friends home. Pansy, who had parties every weekend, and who always had a boyfriend or two hanging off her arm. Pansy, who was the total opposite of Daphne. Daphne hated flashiness and showing-off. She wrote disturbing poetry that got her sent to the Headmasters, and she set fire to the schoolyard. She was weird, and she hated Pansy for being perfect.

….

_Part III. _

"_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."  
― Suzanne Collins _

She took one last sip of milk, a cigarette rolling between her fingers. It was Boxing Day, and already, there was three feet of snow outside her window, though Daphne was protected from the cold, her fireplace roaring. Daphne sighed, trying to ignore the tingling in her arms, the buzz of alcohol making her smile for the first time in a while. She hummed a light tune to herself, spinning wildly around the room, keeping far away from the shattered mirror. _The mirror, the mirror! _She didn't look at it, avoiding the shards that still showed her ugly hair, her ugly personality. She smiled and spun and hummed, feeling light and free for the first time. Maybe now, she could understand why Potter was always so happy. Maybe now it was easier to see why he was free from the harsh words and judgment of his peers, in the way that Daphne never was.

She laughed wildly, trying to imagine explaining her new-found elation to Astoria. Wouldn't she be surprised to see the sparkle in Daphne's eyes, the spring in her step? The cigarette fell from her fingers as she set the milk glass down, her humming getting even louder. She was amazed at how much the pills truly helped. Blaise had promised they'd make her happy, make the pain and judgment fade, but he hadn't told her how well they truly worked, how fast they sped through her system, until she was practically dancing on air. She giggled, not caring about how ridiculous she looked, not caring that her torn clothes and her messy hair made her look like a wild person. Her mother would have been disgusted, but she only laughed, finally free. Finally happy.

The mirror lay behind her, cracked and shattered into a million pieces, but she only danced and danced, feeling the pills do their work inside her. How many had she taken? Was it enough, or did she need a few more? Would it hurt to take too much, to just let them work their magic until she was nothing but a numb skeleton? She laughed, grabbing the bottle, gulping down as many as she could. She wasn't trying to die, Daphne told herself. This was all psychological, trying to get closer to happiness, even if the only way was to swallow pills. At least now she could smile and laugh and be free from her mother, from her father. Free from school and Pansy and everyone else. Free to be happy. Wasn't that what she wanted? Happiness.

Daphne moved towards the table, letting her hand sweep across, upsetting the milk glass so that it tumbled, and slipping to the floor with a _crashing _sound. She hardly even noticed, smiling to herself as the glass spilt over the floor. She danced and hummed to herself, imagining bright spots in her dark room, imagining she was dancing with Potter. He was explaining something about unicorns and how he thought wizards were real, but she ignored 'Potter', focusing on her dancing, spinning around the room with him on her arm. She laughed again, loudly, before collapsing to the floor in a sudden movement, her eyes going blank. She had always wanted to sleep, to lie down and just sleep. She'd finally gotten to sleep, finally gotten to close her tired eyes and smile as the darkness claimed her. All she had to do was wait and sleep for as long as she wanted. All she had to do was wait. Just _wait_ until Astoria came back. Wouldn't she be surprised to see Daphne asleep? Wouldn't she be surprised to see the sleepy smile on her sister's face?

_Astoria, can you hear me? _

_I'm happy now. _

_I'm finally happy. _


End file.
